Memoria
by CacoPhoniA
Summary: Beginnings and endings of a Nobody's time of a Somebody. Because remembering is all they have.


They all had "faux emotions", as Xemnas said, being the excuse of what their regular daily outbursts were from. "They are all drawn from memories, therefore not being real." There was some logic to what he said, somewhere, but really...it sounded like a lie, for if emotions drawn from memories were fake, then shouldn't the memories be fake themselves? And if not, then maybe the "faux emotions" were in fact, real.  
>Xemnas never answered this question, and it left considerable doubt amongst the members of Organization 13.<br>One particular night, after discussing this for the umpteenth time with their Superior, the members went off to bed, failing to sleep, and only succeeding in remembering. Remembering their lives before, and the people and emotions that came with it.

Axel remembered beautiful gardens, and mosaic tiles, weaving in and out of buildings. He remembered the smell of flowers in the spring, citrus in the summer, and cinammon in the fall and winter. Blue hair clouded the memories, as well as teal eyes, with humour occasionally sprinkled in them. Sea-salt ice cream covered his tongue, and the laughter of children at play, including himself, of course. Then, a blonde, looking rather rejected, sitting against a stone wall, holding a "toy sword", as his Somebody had called it. A grin from this face, and then a playful fight, leaving him with a stitch and a new friend, one that never left his memories, no matter how much time passed. He remembered smiles, and how they made his chest feel warm.

Memories of dark flooded his vision, and he remembered the struggling breaths he had been taking as the sky began to grow dark. Someone clutched his hand, and he turned, catching a glimpse of fear in teal eyes, and sky-blue hair glistening. Then, complete dark, and pain. Pain that sent him reeling, making hoarse screams rip through his throat as the pain continued mercilessly. It didn't stop, it WOULDN'T stop. The last thing before complete blankness was a slow, painful burn, that went from his feet to his hair.  
>He was aflame, without light.<p>

Saix remembered cool nights that left him staring at the moon, and trying but failing to paint it, and then showing it to green eyes so that they may inspect. Laughter-clouded eyes, that he smirked at. Fall leaves skittered across his vision, and he had marveled at the colors. A hand extended, holding blue sea-salt ice cream to him, which he had taken, eaten, and immediately loved. Blue hair that smelled of rose petals, and long, thin arms that embraced him, and songs that wove the stress from his form. A kiss upon his forehead, the warmth. Long, sprinting legs, and cries to "Come on!" and "Hurry up, slowpoke!" before a hand on the back of his shirt, and being thrown from the large building they had been running around in to the cold unforgiving concrete. Then, finally, laughter. Hard laughter, so hard that tears came to one's eyes.

The darkness had not been merciful to him. He had noticed it first, before grabbing his red-haired counterpart's hand, and exchanging a scared gaze before nothing could be seen, and not long after, screams. It started with one, one close and familiar. One right beside him. Then, more screams, the kind you heard in horror movies, except this time they were terribly real. Not long after this it began to take him, but he fought. He fought hard, kicking away hands and talons, until two sharp knife-like objects had dragged across his face in a jagged "X", and then he screamed himself. Fingers forced his eyes open, and he saw a frighteningly yellow moon, staining his eyes until he saw white, until his whole existence was taken over by it, the pain and cold.  
>The moon was consuming him.<p>

Zexion's memories were short, yet he relieved them effortlessly. First it was strong arms lifting, showing him a dazzling sunset, and a voice musical and light and feminine fingers ran through his hair. And then sadness, as he felt two presences leave the Earth, up into "Heaven" as he had whispered at the funeral. A man with blonde hair then, and green eyes as he was introduced to another blonde, with eyes of amber and a gentle smile. He was also introduced to literature, and he remembered the feel of a broken-in chair, the smell of an old book. He remembered not speaking, and enjoying the silence as other people filled it. He grew to love science, and he liked the man that had introduced him to it. His memories, they were all introductions, all beginnings.

He had fled the darkness, when he saw the gentle man that had been consumed grow into a black creature that made his heart feel like it was jumping into his mouth. He had gasped, and ran from the dark. But alas he could not get away, his legs, short and belonging to a child, could not carry him fast enough. They had sprung from underneath, grabbing his legs and burning through the fabric. Screeches and purple swirls filled his eyes and ears, and he tried to resist as he was dragged deeper and deeper below. He clawed the floor that was slipping away, gripping, but the purple and ebony swirls had slipped between his fingers, prying them loose and sending him down. His last thought, as he fell into darkness, was that perhaps, just perhaps, this was all an illusion. He was wrong.

Roxas had a plethora of memories, his own, and others not. Silver and auburn hair, the sound of waves washing of a beach, and the sound of a name that was not his own. Brown hair then, and identical blue eyes that matched his. Blue hair and a motherly voice as well, delicate hands and collarbones of a princess, this female who guided him, calling him a name he didn't own. A brunette, that at one time had been friendly, that began to slip away, and a wooden Keyblade placed in his hands. Red and blue hair, a fight of young boys, and green eyes that flooded his vision. His memories didn't belong to him, they weren't his, but they were all he had.

A quiet voice, sweet and so young, and a sadness in his heart that lifted slowly, as the voice called some more. A small figure, standing alone on what seemed to be a glass floor. Hands extended to him, a little hop, an adoring smile as he was held in gentle hands of a child. He remembered that his vision was edged by a glistening, silvery white light as he looked at this innocent, so beautifully innocent child.  
>"Would you mind if I stayed here, with you?"<br>"Sure, if it will make you feel better."  
>"...Thank you."<br>And then, a sleepy feeling as he was placed close to the child, and then consumed by the sleepy feeling. He saw light, and it covered him like a warm, forgiving blanket, until the light was his, and he was light.

The members remembered until sleep came, and they had given in, shutting there eyes as the memories escaped their minds for the time being.

And, as they finally slipped into deep sleep, they all could swear they felt a faint thudding inside their chests. 


End file.
